


Spirit of the Season

by NoHolds



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: No relationships are mentioned but i'm going with canon here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHolds/pseuds/NoHolds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura's always loved Christmas, but these last few years, it hasn't really felt like Christmas, anymore. </p>
<p>A short POV from Laura, about how Christmas changed for her as she grew up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spirit of the Season

Growing up, I was always exited for Christmas.

Like, _really_ , _really_ exited.

I can remember Christmases when I was five, six, maybe, where I couldn’t sleep at _all_ on Christmas eve, when I was _so_ exited for Christmas that I just lay in bed with my eyes wide open, ears peeled for the sounds of Santa Claus.

By the time I was ten, I could sleep in fits and starts, but the sheer anticipation of Christmas would wake me up every half hour. Eventually, my dad started staying up with me. We’d curl up on the couch together and drink hot cocoa and watch Christmas specials, and I’d fall asleep sometime around two am, the excitement finally draining from my body, like smoke through chimney.

And when I woke up- when I woke up it was _Christmas._ My father would have gotten up and decorated, and the lights on the tree would be shining, and a fire would be roaring in the fireplace, and my stocking would be stuffed with presents, and dad would come over and put a hand on my shoulder and say “Looks like you were good this year, Laura, look what Santa brought you.” And I would practically _burst_ with excitement, and I was _ten years old,_ and it was _Christmas_ and _Santa had come_ and everything was bright and loud and the flavour of sugar-high.

Only somewhere around my fifteenth birthday, Christmas stopped feeling like _Christmas._ I fell asleep at eleven PM on Christmas Eve and woke up at nine, and I was- I mean, it was Christmas with my dad, and I loved him, and I loved Christmas, but that fever-pitched excitement was gone.

It wasn’t just that I’d finally found out that Santa wasn’t real, either. Somehow, somewhere, the magic had leaked right out of Christmas, and I just couldn’t get exited anymore. Couldn’t watch a Christmas movie and _feel_ that cheer, that festivity. It’s not that I didn’t have a good time, I _did,_ and I always looked forwards to spending that time with my dad, it just-

It just lost _something,_ and Christmas hasn’t been the same since.

And up until I went to Silas, I was always sort of…

Well, this sounds horrible, but _disappointed_ by Christmas. It lost its magic, and just- just knowing what Christmas _used_ to be made Christmases without all that excitement feel sort of… hollow.

And this Christmas, there was plenty of excitement, and a lot of sleepless nights, but none of them were the good kind.

More in the realm of flee-for-your-life excitement then I’m-glad-it’s-Christmas excitement. Which isn’t very festive, when it comes right down to it.

But after the angry mob had dispersed, and we’d disposed of the cannibalistic Christmas witch, we all sat down and told stories around a fire, and drank cocoa, and it wasn’t-

It wasn’t the same. I don’t think Christmas will ever feel like it did when I was younger and the world was brighter, but sitting with my friends and talking and watching the snow fall outside, I felt this _warmth_ in my chest.

This happy, _glowing_ feeling, really soft and warm and gentle, and it wasn’t the fervent excitement of my preteen years, but it was almost as nice.

And just sitting here, suffused with this _glow,_ overcome by fondness for my friends, I really _felt_ the Christmas spirit again, for the first time since I was little.

And I may not love Christmas like I did when I was little, but for the first time I think maybe I can love it in a different way. With friends and loved ones and the _glow_ of crushing fondness.

And I think that maybe-just maybe- Christmas wasn’t so bad this year.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone. (And a very Happy Holidays to people that don't celebrate Christmas)


End file.
